Pop

“Cheesesteak” has received its second review, both – full disclosure – by someone with whom I have an on-line mutual admiration-type relationship.
Actually, the latest isn’t so much a review as it is a favorable mention in Jon Allen’s “Cool Stuffola” pages in “Pop Wasteland” #3, which he edit/produces with his brother. Allen liked the “fly on the wall” enjoyment provided of experiences “that occurred before (he) was born.” While this reminder of the ever widening gap between the formatives of my sensibility and the steadily expanding (while simultaneously diminishing) pool of available readers was a bit knee-buckling, it was a kick to find a product of my present day, sedentary, mild-mannered self in the company of Allen’s favorite “filthy trash” zine, an “outlandishly superb hardcore/grindcore punk record store, a punk rock flea market, and a “vile to the gills” “Revenge” film.
Speaking of “hardcore” and “vile” – and I mean that in the good way – the same issue features the worth-the-price-of-admission-alone longest single work by Mike (“The Only American Cartoonist Even Convicted of Obscenity”) Diana I have come across. If you wondered what he’s been up to – or needed a demonstration of the failures of the Florida criminal justice system at either deterrence or rehabilitation – “The Night Sugar Pop Fucked the Devil’s Old Lady” will suit you fine. Plus there is an interview with the buzzingly unique “comix provacature” Aaron Lange which, within a half-dozen pages, touches upon geek culture, self-destructive artists, the (previously unknown to me acronyms) POFTA and ICP, Guido-ism (another new one), Otto Dix, Lenny Bruce, and “Winesburg, Ohio.” (Them I’ve heard of.)
Your head will spin.

A Poem

You can find my latest piece here: http://www.firstofthemonth.org/huge/

You better be over 18, though, or we all could be in trouble.

It begins:

The shame.
The fear.
The rage.
The provocative fat.
The odious orange.
The quicksand-suck of utter revulsion.

Adventures in Marketing: Week 29

Sold two copies of “The Schiz,” one to a friend who’d missed the launch party and one to an attorney from my law practice past who lives down the peninsula. Sold a “Cheesesteak” to a fellow who sought my counsel on his nanny’s brother’s workers’ comp case.

The (presumably) mass e-mailing from my on-line publicist to reviewers hither and yon has resulted in a single request for “Cheesesteak.” (Actually a request for TWO copies.) This is not encouraging. On the other hand, it means I will be giving away fewer freebies. Is this it? I asked the publicist. Or should I expect more requests to trickle in? This question has not been answered.

However, my publicist has also recommended I give 10 copies away at Goodreads in a “lottery.” This, she says, will draw attention to my work and increase my name recognition. I was willing, but it required several tips from her before I could convince Goodreads “Cheesesteak” even existed.

In semi-related news, I have submitted my Introduction (or Afterword) to “Cumming,” Aaron Lange’s forthcoming collection of scurrilous anti-Trump illustrations. They are a hoot and getting my own rocks off was such a blast that I look forward to displaying the comic besides my own books in the café.

I have even offered to take on local distribution, as a sideline to my publishing empire. I mean if this won’t sell in Berkeley…

A. Lange’s Zine

My latest is up at http://www.tcj.com/reviews/trim/

It begins:

When I was drinking at “Dirty Frank’s,” in the mid-60s, it was regularly observed within my fashionably depressed circle that no one ever moved to Philadelphia, unless it was from someplace smaller than Reading. Sure, things change in 50 years; but even now, learning that Aaron Lange, whose “great, funny stuff” Robert Crumb has celebrated, which, for a cartoonist like Lange, must have felt like Adam receiving the touch of God in DaVinci’s ceiling, had relocated there from Cleveland drew my attention. And Lange’s explanation that the reason for his migration was Philly’s being a “grungy, drug-infested, racist, violent shit-hole…,” doubled it.